


Fifth

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub, Dominance, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, PWP, Submission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-27
Updated: 2014-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 17:58:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1697324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry uses the last few moments of their mission to pleasure Tom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abbeyjewel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbeyjewel/gifts).



> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Harry’s on his knees so fast that it hurts—the floor rushes up to meet him, and he’s probably bruised them already. But that doesn’t matter. He’d take a hundred bruises for Tom, and right now, _Tom’s_ the only thing Harry can think about. His fingers are practically claws, ripping away Tom’s uniform, hiking his pants down just low enough to pull out his full, hard cock. It pulses with life in Harry’s hand, and as soon as it’s freed, Harry can’t help himself—he dives in and shoves his tongue against the base, drawing it all the way up the shaft. His other hand frees Tom’s balls, and he plays with them while he worships Tom’s beast of a cock—anything to touch Tom any way he can. 

Tom chuckles and pets him, brushes back his dark hair. Harry groans at the touch and leans up into it, trying to nuzzle into Tom’s palm, but Tom just pushes Harry back into his crotch. Harry’s mouth is open wide, and he understands. He sucks Tom’s heavy sac into his mouth to show he can behave, though it’s hard to fit both balls in his mouth. He ends up just suckling on one, then shifting to the other, excited at every little brush of blond hair against his tongue. The stench of Tom’s crotch is thick in his nose; they haven’t had a chance to shower for the whole away mission, but Harry doesn’t mind. 

Harry’s been wearing his cockcage for the whole mission, too, and it won’t come off until he’s pleasured Tom at least five times, or so he’s told. He’s already swallowed one load, had two in his ass, and the fourth is currently congealing on his chest, gluing his uniform to him. He knows he probably reeks of it, but he’s far too hard to care—Voyager will reach the preset coordinates soon, and then the Delta flier will dock, and then he’ll have to walk the halls with his cock rock hard and _aching_ between his legs, bound tightly in attached metal hoops. He knows better than to beg Tom for mercy. There’s only one thing to do. He’s got to earn himself another wave of Tom’s cum, and he’s trying _so_ hard to do that. 

In moments like this, Harry’s whole life is just Tom’s pleasure. His hands are braced on Tom’s thighs, and Tom’s leaning against the wall in the back, the metal boards cold all around them. But Tom’s cock is warm and hot and soft, the curled hair at the nape scratching Harry’s nose when he buries into it. Harry takes in a deep whiff and moans around his mouthful of Tom’s balls; he’s lucky, damn lucky. To be alone in a shuttle with Tom, off on an away mission with just _Tom_ : it’s like Harry’s own personal heaven, except his ass is plugged and his cock is tied, and no matter how he humps pathetically at the air, he gets no closer to his release. His hips are shuddering now, and Tom pets him fondly and chuckles, “C’mon, Ensign. They’ll be here any minute...”

Harry whimpers and pulls back, though Tom’s long fingers in his hair don’t let him go far. He laves over Tom’s shaft a few more times, tracing the patterns of thinly veiled veins. Tom’s cock is a masterpiece: thick and long and nicely curved. It juts straight out at him, hard and glistening with sweat, and Harry presses a closed-mouth kiss to the tip, sucking at it already. Tom’s grip tightens in his hair, but doesn’t push him forward; there’s no need. Harry’s as good a boyfriend as he is an ensign: always well behaved. He opens his mouth as wide as it’ll go—still only barely enough for Tom’s girth—and he shoves himself down, taking as much as he can at once. Tom’s massive cock slides along his tongue and squeezes into his throat; Harry shifts to try and take more. He strains to reach the base, to have his nose and chin pressing into Tom’s pubic hair and balls again, but it’s a struggle. He has to push only a little bit at a time after he’s halfway, and he knows there isn’t _time_ for that. He wants more of Tom’s cum in his stomach _right now_ , and he whines in frustration, tongue lapping at what it can. Tom grunts in clear pleasure, and Harry’s eyes flicker up through his lashes, watching Tom’s handsome face. 

Tom’s staring blankly down at Harry, face flushed and eyes half-closed, like Harry’s the best thing Tom’s ever seen. Sometimes Harry wonders if he ever makes Tom as dizzy as Tom makes him. But now’s not the time to wonder that. Harry closes his eyes and sucks with everything he has, hollowing out his cheeks and devouring Tom’s dick like a Popsicle with hidden sugar. 

Tom’s cock doesn’t seem to want to give up its sugar yet, so Harry pulls back, only to shove back down a second later, fast enough to nearly choke himself. He does it again, then again, and sets into a brutal rhythm, bobbing on and off with everything he has. His hands are clinging to Tom’s pants, and his hips are trembling in need, but Harry’s determined to focus, to do this right, to give Tom everything he has. He swallows Tom’s cock and worships it with his mouth, and he should—he’s never tasted anything so glorious. 

A dozen thrusts in, Tom finally groans, “Harry,” and Harry moans loudly around his mouthful; he _loves_ when Tom says his name. Especially like _that_. His own cock is straining against its bonds, done with being pained and sore and now just permanently a millimeter away from bursting. He pours all of his desire into Tom, and he’s rewarded with a hand stroking through his hair and another thumbing his cheek; his face is cradled even as he shoves it onto Tom’s dick again and again. Tom hisses louder and purrs, “Good boy, Harry, _good boy_...” It sounds like Harry’s some sort of pet, and that turns Harry on more than it ever should; he’s _Tom’s_ pet. He might as well wear a collar around his neck with instructions to return him to Tom’s quarters if he ever gets lost. Suddenly, the cage and the plug inside him aren’t enough; they’re private; he wants to be _marked_ , wants to be _claimed_ , wants everyone to know that he belongs to Tom Paris and he’d live off Tom’s cum if he could, drink it morning, noon, and night, and ride Tom’s cock in-between—

Tom’s strangled cry is Harry’s only warning, and then he’s being shoved down all the way; he’s impaled to the base and Tom’s hands hold his head fiercely in. Tom’s cock is twitching inside him, and then it comes against the back of his throat—he nearly gags. Harry’s still fighting to control himself, aware of his throat practically convulsing to try and manage, while Tom’s cum sprays all over him and trickles down to his stomach, slick along his inside. As soon as Harry regains control, he’s into it, and he’s moaning, and he’s _happy_ , so _happy_ ; he sucks hard and greedily drinks down every drop of Tom’s seed. He just wishes it happened on his tongue, so he could taste it more. As it is, he can only _feel_ it. Tom groans the entire time he’s coming and doesn’t once let Harry go. 

That grip only loosens when he’s finished. Even then, Harry stays in place, whimpering around his mouthful and grinding against the air, wishing he had the balls to hump Tom’s leg like the dog he is. He keeps sucking at Tom’s member, trying to milk out anything that’s left, but he’s sure he’s gotten the bulk of it. Finally, Tom shoves him away. 

When Harry’s mouth is slipped out of, his jaw hurts too much to close. So he sits there with saliva dripping out the side of his mouth, lips swollen from all the different things Tom’s put him through. He looks up at Tom, his chest a mix of pride and desperation. That was the fifth load. He’s earned his release now. Tom’s a good boyfriend. He’s always fair, no matter how the dynamics of their games might seem. He slowly kneels down in front of Harry, pulling his pants back up as he goes. He doesn’t look nearly so wrecked as Harry is, even if his face is a little pink. He pecks Harry on the cheek, and it takes everything Harry has not to turn sideways and press their mouths together. 

Tom reaches into Harry’s pants next, and Harry practically throws himself into Tom’s arms; his hips jut forward and shiver in their effort to hold still. Tom smirks and asks, “Eager, are we?”

Harry can barely manage to breathe, “Always.”

Tom releases the cage, and Harry comes _instantly_ , exploding right in his pants with a scream and a rush of pleasure. He clings to Tom, and Tom lunges at him, holding him tight, while Harry’s orgasm wracks his whole body, pent up as it was for so long. He nearly passes out from how foggy it makes him, and it’s all he can do to stay up, clinging to Tom’s shoulders. Tom pets his back and fondles his still-twitching cock and tells him, “Shh, good boy... there you go... you’re so cute when you come, Harry...”

Harry can barely comprehend the words and just nuzzles into Tom’s face; damn, that feels _good_. They should be in bed right now. Harry just wants to melt into the sheets and drag Tom down with him, cuddle up for a beautiful, hazy afterglow that—

_“Voyager to Delta Flier.”_

Captain Janeway’s voice makes Harry cringe. It comes crashing back down in a horrible avalanche that he’s on duty, and he’s come in his pants, and his ass is still full and his uniform is glued to his skin with Tom’s cum and his mouth tastes like cock. The things he does for Tom. Not that he didn’t enjoy it, of course. Still, he looks at Tom in mild terror, and Tom kisses his forehead and murmurs, “I’ll deal with it.”

Tom climbs back to the cockpit, and Harry collapses onto the floor, needing a moment half to breathe, and half to just relish in how utterly amazing their missions always are together.


End file.
